Beatrix Potter: The Best Works

Beatrix Potter

Description

This ebook compiles Beatrix Potter's greatest writings, including "The Tale of Peter Rabbit", "The Tailor of Gloucester", "The Tale of Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle" and "The Fairy Caravan".
This edition has been professionally formatted and contains several tables of contents. The first table of contents (at the very beginning of the ebook) lists the titles of all novels included in this volume. By clicking on one of those titles you will be redirected to the beginning of that work, where you'll find a new TOC that lists all the chapters and sub-chapters of that specific work.

Sujets

• J. R. R. Tolkien
• Le Seigneur des anneaux
• Hobbit
• C. S. Lewis
• O. Henry
• Narnia
• Free
• The Chronicles of Narnia
• The Screwtape Letters
• The Tale of Peter Rabbit
• Bestseller (disambiguation)
• The Complete Works
• Biography
• Nesbit

Informations

• Publié par: Pandora's Box
• Date de parution: 05 décembre 2019
• Nombre de lectures: 2
• EAN13: 9789897785078
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 6 Mo

Extrait

THE BEST WORKS OF
Beatrix Potter
 
Table of Contents
 
 
 
The Tale of Peter Rabbit
The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin
The Tailor of Gloucester
The Tale of Benjamin Bunny
The Tale of Two Bad Mice
The Tale of Mrs. Tiggy-Winkle
The Tale of Tom Kitten
The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck
The Tale of Samuel Whiskers or, The Roly-Poly Pudding
The Tale of the Flopsy Bunnies
The Fairy Caravan
 
The Tale of Peter Rabbit
First published : 1902
a short story
 
 
 
Once upon a time there were four little Rabbits, and their names were —
Flopsy, Mopsy, Cotton-tail, and Peter.
 

 
They lived with their Mother in a sand-bank, underneath the root of a very big fir-tree.
‘Now my dears,’ said old Mrs. Rabbit one morning, ‘you may go into the fields or down the lane, but don’t go into Mr. McGregor’s garden: your Father had an accident there; he was put in a pie by Mrs. McGregor.’
 

 
‘Now run along, and don’t get into mischief. I am going out.’
 

 
Then old Mrs. Rabbit took a basket and her umbrella, and went through the wood to the baker’s. She bought a loaf of brown bread and five currant buns.
 

 
Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail, who were good little bunnies, went down the lane to gather blackberries:
 

 
But Peter, who was very naughty, ran straight away to Mr. McGregor’s garden, and squeezed under the gate!
 

 
First he ate some lettuces and some French beans; and then he ate some radishes;
 

 
And then, feeling rather sick, he went to look for some parsley.
 

 
But round the end of a cucumber frame, whom should he meet but Mr. McGregor!
 

 
Mr. McGregor was on his hands and knees planting out young cabbages, but he jumped up and ran after Peter, waving a rake and calling out, ‘Stop thief!’
 

 
Peter was most dreadfully frightened; he rushed all over the garden, for he had forgotten the way back to the gate.
He lost one of his shoes among the cabbages, and the other shoe amongst the potatoes.
 

 
After losing them, he ran on four legs and went faster, so that I think he might have got away altogether if he had not unfortunately run into a gooseberry net, and got caught by the large buttons on his jacket. It was a blue jacket with brass buttons, quite new.
 

 
Peter gave himself up for lost, and shed big tears; but his sobs were overheard by some friendly sparrows, who flew to him in great excitement, and implored him to exert himself.
 

 
Mr. McGregor came up with a sieve, which he intended to pop upon the top of Peter; but Peter wriggled out just in time, leaving his jacket behind him.
 

 
And rushed into the tool-shed, and jumped into a can. It would have been a beautiful thing to hide in, if it had not had so much water in it.
 

 
Mr. McGregor was quite sure that Peter was somewhere in the tool-shed, perhaps hidden underneath a flower-pot. He began to turn them over carefully, looking under each.
Presently Peter sneezed — ‘Kertyschoo!’ Mr. McGregor was after him in no time.
 

 
And tried to put his foot upon Peter, who jumped out of a window, upsetting three plants. The window was too small for Mr. McGregor, and he was tired of running after Peter. He went back to his work.
 

 
Peter sat down to rest; he was out of breath and trembling with fright, and he had not the least idea which way to go. Also he was very damp with sitting in that can.
After a time he began to wander about, going lippity — lippity — not very fast, and looking all round.
 

 
He found a door in a wall; but it was locked, and there was no room for a fat little rabbit to squeeze underneath.
An old mouse was running in and out over the stone doorstep, carrying peas and beans to her family in the wood. Peter asked her the way to the gate, but she had such a large pea in her mouth that she could not answer. She only shook her head at him. Peter began to cry.
 

 
Then he tried to find his way straight across the garden, but he became more and more puzzled. Presently, he came to a pond where Mr. McGregor filled his water-cans. A white cat was staring at some gold-fish, she sat very, very still, but now and then the tip of her tail twitched as if it were alive. Peter thought it best to go away without speaking to her; he had heard about cats from his cousin, little Benjamin Bunny.
 

 
He went back towards the tool-shed, but suddenly, quite close to him, he heard the noise of a hoe — scr-r-ritch, scratch, scratch, scritch. Peter scuttered underneath the bushes. But presently, as nothing happened, he came out, and climbed upon a wheelbarrow and peeped over. The first thing he saw was Mr. McGregor hoeing onions. His back was turned towards Peter, and beyond him was the gate!
 

 
Peter got down very quietly off the wheelbarrow; and started running as fast as he could go, along a straight walk behind some black-currant bushes.
Mr. McGregor caught sight of him at the corner, but Peter did not care. He slipped underneath the gate, and was safe at last in the wood outside the garden.
 

 
Mr. McGregor hung up the little jacket and the shoes for a scare-crow to frighten the blackbirds.
Peter never stopped running or looked behind him till he got home to the big fir-tree.
 

 
He was so tired that he flopped down upon the nice soft sand on the floor of the rabbit-hole and shut his eyes. His mother was busy cooking; she wondered what he had done with his clothes. It was the second little jacket and pair of shoes that Peter had lost in a fortnight!
 

 
I am sorry to say that Peter was not very well during the evening.
His mother put him to bed, and made some camomile tea; and she gave a dose of it to Peter!
‘One table-spoonful to be taken at bed-time.’
 

 
But Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail had bread and milk and blackberries for supper.
 

 
The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin
First published : 1903
a short story
 
 
 
This is a Tale about a tail — a tail that belonged to a little red squirrel, and his name was Nutkin.
 

 
He had a brother called Twinkleberry, and a great many cousins: they lived in a wood at the edge of a lake.
 

 
In the middle of the lake there is an island covered with trees and nut bushes; and amongst those trees stands a hollow oak-tree, which is the house of an owl who is called Old Brown.
 
 

 
One autumn when the nuts were ripe, and the leaves on the hazel bushes were golden and green — Nutkin and Twinkleberry and all the other little squirrels came out of the wood, and down to the edge of the lake.
 

 
They made little rafts out of twigs, and they paddled away over the water to Owl Island to gather nuts.
Each squirrel had a little sack and a large oar, and spread out his tail for a sail.
 

 
They also took with them an offering of three fat mice as a present for Old Brown, and put them down upon his door-step.
Then Twinkleberry and the other little squirrels each made a low bow, and said politely —
“Old Mr. Brown, will you favour us with permission to gather nuts upon your island?”
 

 
But Nutkin was excessively impertinent in his manners. He bobbed up and down like a little red cherry , singing —
 
Riddle me, riddle me, rot-tot-tote!
A little wee man, in a red red coat!
A staff in his hand, and a stone in his throat;
If you’ll tell me this riddle, I’ll give you a groat.
 
Now this riddle is as old as the hills; Mr. Brown paid no attention whatever to Nutkin.
He shut his eyes obstinately and went to sleep.
 

 
The squirrels filled their little sacks with nuts, and sailed away home in the evening.
 

 
But next morning they all came back again to Owl Island; and Twinkleberry and the others brought a fine fat mole, and laid it on the stone in front of Old Brown’s doorway, and said —
“Mr. Brown, will you favour us with your gracious permission to gather some more nuts?”
 

 
But Nutkin, who had no respect, began to dance up and down, tickling old Mr. Brown with a nettle and singing —
 
Old Mr. B! Riddle-me-ree! <